Don't Fly USAir!

To get back to my hippie roots, I must (must!) quote the Dead - What a long strange trip it's been. Thanks to the wonderfully incompetent people at USAir, I arrived in NZ a full day after I was supposed to. It all began with my PHL-LAX flight increasingly delayed on Tuesday night, until we left over 2.5 hrs after we should have. (The time between connecting flights? 2.5 hrs.... and so the entertainment begins). After endurring annoyingly loud talker thru the flight, I arrive at LAX with 15 minutes before my flight to Fiji (the plan was philly to la to fiji to nz). Do I dare? I ask a flight attendent. How can you not? She replies.

And off I go, with newfound Aussie friend also trying to make a connecting flight. We run from domestic to international with great speed and agility. (Nevermind the fact that my newly mended pants are held up with velcro and velcro is not conducive to staying velcroed while running at full speed. Yet my hands still worked, so not wanting to be naked in public Katie held up her pants with one hand while paranoid Katie held onto her passport and ticket - no not bording pass I still needed to check in! - with the other.) I arrive at the Air Pacific desk, and hope beyond hope, my plane is still boarding! I have 2 minutes left I can make it! Alas it was not to be. The plane already left.

Back to USAirways baggage claim. I didn't make my flight, I tell the woman wommaning the counter. Oh I knew you wouldn't, she says. The crew called us 6 hours ago and we already have you booked on another flight for tomorrow night at 9:30.

What? Why did that damned flight attendent tell me to run? For her own shits and giggles?

The rest of the interaction at the USAir baggage claim was fairly boring, other than the fact that Stedman was there - he lost his bag! and he's really tall in person. If you don't know who Stedman is, you obviously need to watch more Oprah.

So off to the Marriot, for a good nights sleep, then the best damned berry smoothie ever (and there's the silver lining). Then back to the airport to alert my Dad's airline that I will be arriving a day late (which they did tell him, thank you Qantas). Then back to the oh so comfy Marriot bed for a long nap. Then late check-out, and back to the airport to Air NZ to check in.

Where's your ticket? The Air NZ attendent asks. I tell her my story, and apparently USAir should have known to give me a fim. But they didn't, because they suck. Back to USair to get the fim. While there, I inquire about my bag.

Oh it's in Fiji. When you get to Fiji, pick it up.

But how do I do this (you bullshit USAir), since you booked me on a flight straight to Auckland?

Hmmmmmm, she replies. Fuck, I think (and say, sorry grown ups who read this).

There's nothing they can do until I get to Auckland when I must file a claim. So back to Air NZ, through security, onto the flight, two movies and a bit of sleep later, I arrive in NZ and thank goodness, my Dad has gotten the messages and I meet him at the airport.